


By Their Sacrifice

by MadHattie



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, If no one else will write Roswell fic then I guess I will, Spoilers for The Eleventh Hour, happy birthday to my fave agender earth elemental, set before The Eleventh Hour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:39:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9669182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadHattie/pseuds/MadHattie
Summary: Roswell gets born, meets some people, and is put in a position of power. It's an eventful day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> me: I should work on editing more of my original work so that I send it to magazines and make money  
> also me: the world needs more Roswell fic

They did not wake up all at once. Instead they came to being in increments. First was the rich red clay- the stuff that was to be their body and their world. It rose up from the ground and tumbled down from the cliff that towered high above. The torso formed first, then the head, the arms, the legs. Roswell was born laying down, their back to the earth, their face to the sky.

The bird was a late addition. It was a curious little thing, just looking for a place to perch and scout for bugs. A minute earlier and it would have landed on bare ground. A minute later and it would have encountered a bewildered newborn earth elemental. Somehow, this bird chose just the right moment to land.

(If you were to ask Istus about it, she would give you a knowing smile and tell you that some things are just fated to be.)

It was 11 a.m. when their mind finally joined their body, and later they might find some humor in the fact that the hour of their birth would be the one that they were doomed to repeat. The sun was bright but hazy behind the dome that curved like a soap bubble high up in the sky.

 

That was the first thing that Roswell saw. This is the first thing that Roswell heard:

 

“What the hell?”

The voice came from the dark opening carved into the side of the cliff. The man standing just inside stared off into the distance. He was not tall, but his large, broad-brimmed hat made him seem like he was. His clothes were disheveled, and he was covered from head to toe in the same red dirt that made up Roswell's body. The only exception was his face, streaked with lines of clean tan skin, as though he had only just stopped crying.

The man took a small step forward, only to freeze in place when his eyes finally rested on Roswell. They had pushed themself up to their feet and were standing at their full height. Were it not for their size, they might have blended in with the rocks that were scattered across the barren landscape. The two stood in silence for a minute or two, frozen stock-still like wild animals unsure whether or not to flee. 

Roswell was the first to move, their legs thick and sturdy, but their steps unsteady. Each step clunked down, heavy and deliberate onto the hard dry ground. They had no real sense of time- this journey could only be measured against the minutes they had been awake, but the trip seemed agonizingly slow. When at last they reached the entrance of the mine they planted their feet into the ground directly in front of the man.

“Hello!” they chirped, unsure of what they should do.  

“So this is what he summoned,” the man said, looking at Roswell without truly acknowledging them. “An earth elemental and a fishbowl to trap us in. That’s what’s gonna make our home safe, huh, Jack?”

“Um…” Roswell said, shifting their weight from foot to foot and fluttering their wings. The man’s eyes seemed to focus with the movement, and in response his mouth settled from a grimace to something softer.

“Sorry, buddy, didn’t mean to take this out on you. It wasn’t your fault that you came out of this mess I made.” The man raised his eyes and looked from their smooth clay face to the bird, which had come to rest on their shoulder. “You got a name, kid?”

Roswell shook both of their heads.

“Hmm…” The man rubbed a hand down the back of his neck. “How about Roswell? That was my dad’s name, and he was a good man. God knows he was a better man than me.”

“That sounds like a nice name.” The newly-christened Roswell was starting to release some of the tension that had built up inside of them, but something still didn’t feel right.

“Alright, Roswell,” the man said, squaring his shoulders. “My name is Issak. Did you just wake up?” Roswell nodded. “Do you know why your creator summoned you?”

“I-” Their mind seemed to clear, like wiping condensation off a window. “I need to make sure that Refuge is safe.”

Issak was silent for a moment or two, his face pensive and his eyes downcast. Then he pushed up the brim of his hat and stared up at where the sun shone beyond the barrier.

“Guess you better come with me then,” he said, and he started walking towards the buildings in the distance, beckoning for Roswell to follow.

 

The town of Refuge was bustling and busy despite being barely a mile wide. People were standing out on their porches and in the middle of the street, talking to each other with loud voices and large gestures. The chatter grew hushed as Roswell and Issak approached. People looked around, as if they were expecting to see someone else, and when that person wasn't there, they turned to stare at Roswell.

The first to break the silence was a young drow woman with her hair up in a ponytail and an apron around her waist.

“What’s going on, Issak? Did you summon that thing? I thought you told me once that your school was transmutation, not conjuration.” She looked from Roswell to Issak, then back again. Roswell stood still and silent, unsure of what they should do. Issak cleared his throat.

“No, uh. It wasn’t me. It was Jack. Jack summoned ‘em.”

The woman's eyes widened, bright white against her dark skin. “Did something happen down in the mine? Is June okay?”

“I-” Jack’s voice cracked and his face crumpled. At once the stoic mask that he had made of his face slipped away, revealing a haunted man, a broken man. “They’re gone. I lost them, Ren. I fucked up and now they’re both gone.”

“What?” Ren’s voice was quiet. “Then how…”

“It’s like Paloma’s fucking prophecy said. ‘By their sacrifice our home is made safe’. Jack and June were dying, and they cast a spell, and now we have an elemental and a giant bubble to protect us.” Issak took a deep, shuddering breath. “We knew all along that they were going to die. From the moment that goddamn man in red brought them here they were doomed. We never could have saved them. But now Refuge is safe.” He laughed, rough like a dog’s bark, and without any humor. “I wonder if Jack would think that it was worth it.”

“Issak,” Ren reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, but before she could do so he pulled away. “What happened down there?”

“I can’t-” Issak shook his head. “I can’t, Ren. It’s too soon.” He straightened up and wiped his face where a few errant tears had started to run down it. “I’m gonna go to the sheriff’s office. There’s a few things I need to sort out. C’mon, Roswell.” 

With that he turned and made his way towards a low building near the center of town. Roswell hesitated for just a second before giving a small nod to Ren and trailing behind.

 

The sheriff’s office was quiet and dusty, but the windows filled the room to the brim with sunlight. In the corner were a pair of empty jail cells. From the little bit of Refuge that Roswell had seen, they suspected that the sheriff had never had to imprison more than two people at a time. Issak opened up a door a off to the side of the room and rummaged around a bit before pulling out some large metal plate armor. 

“This is the largest stuff we’ve got, so I think it’ll fit. Here.” He grabbed a battered helmet from a hook just inside the door and stood up on the tips of his toes to place it on Roswell’s head. It was snug enough that their clay pressed at the seams and the visor, but it fit. “There you go.”

Roswell started wiggling into the breastplate, the bird hopping up to sit on their head as they pulled the straps over their shoulders. Issak turned to the large desk pushed into the corner. From a pouch on his belt he pulled a thin wooden wand, which he tapped twice on the desk’s drawer before pulling it open and retrieving a set of keys. Roswell donned a pair of gauntlets while he crossed the room to unlock another cabinet, this one full of weapons in all shapes and sizes. Issak pulled out a crossbow, a pair of daggers, and several swords before finally hefting out a large halberd.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to them. “You probably won’t need it, but just in case. Oh, and one more thing.” From the front pocket of his shirt he pulled a silver badge shaped like a star. He unfastened the pin on the back and approached Roswell, only to stop once he realized that there was nothing to fasten the pin to.

“Damn it. Uh, hold on a sec.” Issak rummaged around the cluttered desk until he came up with a roll of tape. With a bit of fiddling he taped the badge on to Roswell’s chest. When he stepped back he was wearing just the smallest bit of a smile. In the time they had known him, it was the only time Roswell had seen him do anything but frown. “There. If people wouldn’t have listened to you before, they will now.”

Roswell reached up to touch the star. It was worn and scuffed in places, and the silver didn’t have much of a shine left to it, but the word “Deputy” still stood out bright and clear.

“Are you sure?” They fiddled with the badge, adjusting it so that it was less crooked. “I mean, isn’t this yours?”

“I won’t need it anymore,” Issak said, and he returned to the desk drawer once more, rummaging around in the back until he pulled out a small gold star. “Somebody needs to take Jack’s place.” His hands shook as he pinned the star to his shirt, right over his heart. The metal shone, and the word “Sheriff” stood bold against it. “Let's make his sacrifice worth it, Ros. Let's keep this place safe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to Margaret, who has become my taz fic editor, and who encourages me by putting very excited comments on my google docs


End file.
